Freddie's arm flew over his mouth, coughing as the putrid smell of gasoline and smoke rose. Sam led him, tugging on his arm. Soot danced devilishly on the wind, and he could barely see as they stumbled through. Other than Sam's footsteps, he could hear the sounds of a small group ahead of him? What was going on?
Thump.
Freddie had tripped, his leg deep in muck and tangled in bushes. His backpack was caught in branches of a bush, and Sam stumbled. "Idiot!" She snapped pulling his arm. Freddie was coated in unlit gasoline, and as the fire blazed at an increasing speed, he felt scared for his life for the second time in such a short period.
Sam yanked him out of the muck, snapping small brambles, but his arm was twisting in the backpack strap. He twisted to free the backpack. It was essential to their survival! He whipped out his knife and cut and stabbed at the branches.
"Leave it, you can easily get your arm free and run!" Smoke was rising and fogged around him. Sam called, tugging on him hard.
"No! We need it!" Freddie snarled, but the branches lit on fire. The backpack lit on fire, and finally, his gasoline coated clothes lit on fire.
Freddie screamed in pain, and Sam screeched with fear. Smoke rose into Freddie's mouth, and he coughed violently, but couldn't get free. Sam snatched the knife out of his hand, and cut the strap. Freddie screeched bloody murder as the flames reached his skin, greedily lapping at the gasoline and burning his skin for more. They both felt their consciousness slipping, and Freddie was the first to lay down flat, blacked out. Walls of smoke surrounded them, and Sam knew her time was limited. She pulled Freddie over her back with difficultly coughing as she moved along. It was hard to find a place where there wasn't fire, but she managed to find a way through pure smoke. Sam ran. Branches were falling and cracking, and finally, she stumbled to the ground. She crawled next to Freddie, as the flames grew closer.
"I'm sorry." She whispered, and collapsed, her arm draped over his chest as she lay, coughing, face flat. Freddie pulled her close, coughing.
Was this how it was going to end?
Blackness.
Freddie awoke, but found there was no Sam in his grip. Was he dead? He screamed with surprise, scrambling back from a wall of fire. Guffaws of laughter rose, and he sat up, finding himself in the center of about five dark colored boys sitting around the circle of a tame, tall fire. An unwelcome smoky taste lingered in his throat.
The boys were dressed in baggy clothes, all of their clothes, including their faces, and hands mostly, charred with ash. Scars of burns were apparent on their arms. The after noon light filtered down through the trees.
"Where's Sam?" Freddie asked.
"See Alvin?" A boy nudged a rather short of the dark brown boys. Freddie could detect a rich French accent. "I told you he is American!" The boy who had nudged Alvin announced, tossing around piece of wood into the fire.
"I thought he was a German! You can't blame me, Dennis." Alvin scowled, watching the fire.
"I thought he was Russian." A rather tall boy added.
"Me too, Edmund." A stocky boy agreed to the tall boy named Edmund. The stocky boy had a lot of scars, and the most ashes on his tattered clothes. He seemed more matured than the other boys, but Edmund, who looked younger, was taller.
"Man, you guys are clueless!" Dennis sneered.
"Shut it, Dennis." Freddie was surprised to hear a girl's voice scold Dennis.
"Aw, I'm just playing, Caroline." Dennis scratched his head. The girl addressed as Caroline had her hair pulled back, mostly hid in a hoodie. She wasn't full of curves – but rather masculine. She too seemed mature like the stocky boy.
"Marcel, why don't you put an end to the white boy's worry and tell him what happened to his girlfriend?" Carolyn turned to the stocky boy, who apparently was called Marcel.
Alvin, Dennis, and Edmund all fell silent. Caroline stood quietly, motioning for Freddie to follow. He didn't bother to correct Caroline – Sam wasn't his girlfriend, just a rush of adrenaline, he assured himself.
They were a ways away from the group, when Caroline began to speak. She was about a foot taller. Her voice was also a rich French accent. "I'm sorry, what is your name?"
"Freddie." Freddie said quietly, eyes set ahead.
"Right, strange name. But I suppose you are American. Listen Fred," She sighed, pausing outside some sort of cloth tent. "I'm sorry about my brothers. They have a strange fascination with fire. It's what made us homeless, our curiosity for fire. I guess we never learned." Caroline pushed the tent open, ducking her head in. They kneeled next to each other, and in the dim light, she lit a match.
Sam lay before him. She was covered in cuts, burns, and bruises.
"… What did you do to her?" Freddie asked shakily.
"She did it to herself, dragging you away from the fire. It took us awhile to realize anybody was still alive. We thought we were catching some sort of animals in the bush when we set the fire." Caroline spoke lowly.
"You set the fire?" Freddie asked angrily. He had lost all his valuable survival equipment.
"Listen to my story before you judge us, boy." Caroline snapped.
Freddie fell silent, and listened as the strange girl told her tale.
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Strange cliffhanger, huh?
You really can't tell what's going on at this point.
It'll explain itself next chapter. :P
Review! Review! Review!
